Red Sky at Night
by sunzeniths
Summary: Something Cahill said had always stuck with her. Established Lucy/Wyatt. Post-finale. Mentions of Rufus, brief appearance by Jiya, implied Rufus/Jiya, implied sexual content. Shameless fluff, basically.


Established Lucy/Wyatt. Just some shameless fluff, cause who doesn't need fluff? Set way down the road from The Red Scare.

Just a gathering of brief Lyatt moments, with a considerable time jump between them. Both POVs. This is just really some random fluff based on an established relationship. I love all the angst and building up, but I just felt like exploring future cuteness.

* * *

The tile felt cold against the skin on her back, her shivering fingertips dropping the plastic object to the single-striped pile that already covered the floor. _Maybe if I try one more time? Just one more._ She'd read those instructions so many times she almost had them memorized by now. _There's still a 1% chance these are wrong_ … _all five of them._ Caught up in her own agitation, she failed to perceive the car pulling up the driveway, the front door clicking shut, or yet the sound of his customary salutations.

The solitary light beam caught Wyatt's attention, being the sole illumination source on the house save for the gleam of the exterior lamps. He followed the trail to find himself reaching the master bathroom … looking down at her frail figure. He swallowed before speaking, the scene before him telling the story he was reluctant about making her relive. Sitting by her, his hand gave her knee a gentle squeeze. _I'm home_.

"Hey," Lucy purred as she cuddled up next to him. A comfortable silence fell between the pair as she took his warmth in, a sheepish smile breaking its way through her lips.

"Luce," he paused. "Is– is everything okay?" The fresh tracks on her cheeks told otherwise, he knew, but he wasn't sure what his initial approach to the situation should be, so he went with that.

She allowed his angled leg to support her arm, a chuckle escaping her throat as she considered the irony of the situation. She had been getting signals that suggested it might be happening, that there was a possibility that reality was being thrown her way … _their_ way. But that was certainly not the case as it was evidenced by the stack sitting ahead. She shook her head as she tried making sense out of everything, her words registering in Wyatt's brain as she told him the tale of how scare had turned to consternation, then slight excitement, winding up in unsettlement.

She'd brushed it off the first time suspicion hit her, deeming it impossible and absurd … until she couldn't ignore it any longer. It had gone like this: she'd kissed Wyatt goodbye and spent a good hour thereafter sitting on the edge of the bed … her feet being particularly interesting that morning, apparently. After finding the courage to take the fateful trip at last, she had spent another hour in the cold bathroom floor, box in hands, _wishing, hoping_ … wanting nothing more than to be wrong in her inklings. And then her gut betrayed her and she found herself waiting for a surprise. She recognized the tickle she felt in her stomach, only one person evoked that feeling and he wasn't there right now … so what was this? Where was it coming from? Was she actually excited with this possibility? She waited and it felt like she'd been sitting there for hours rather than minutes. Then she saw it … and she never felt so alone in her life. _Was it possible to lose something you never had?_

"You must think I'm crazy," she sighed.

In retrospect, they'd been shown time travel wasn't a thing of fiction, conspiracy theories were very much real, and butterfly effect ripples ensued daily for them to witness up close. Wyatt had never believed in _fate_ or _meant to be_ until he was thrown into this whole thing … until _her_. Crazy was assuredly a notion he had retired since Mason Industries, Motherships and Lifeboats, _Rittenhouse_. So _no._ That _in_ _no way_ reflected what he was thinking, or what he thought of Lucy. He made sure she knew that.

"It's just something he said once … I know I shouldn't let it get to me, but I can't help it. I can't help it, Wyatt."

She looked up at him, looking for solace. And there she found it. His eyes were kind and considerate and she lost herself for a moment in the blue immensity.

"Who do you mean, Lucy?"

"Benjamin Cahill," she clarified.

 _Oh._

"Tell me," he planted lazy kisses to the top of her head, which had gravitated towards his collarbone by now.

"He said my kids would be part of Rittenhouse someday," she started, remembering that moment vividly. _Rittenhouse isn't a choice, it's blood._ Lucy exhaled. "I'm sorry," she said between intakes of breath. "I reckon you're tired and can't stand hearing about any of this anymore."

It wasn't true. Lucy's concerns were his, and he reminded her he knew all about the underlying strings when he committed to her … nothing would ever make him second guess his decision, he assured her.

They hadn't talked about children before … not exactly. Wyatt sensed something might be coming up on that front when she'd make casual comments about scenes they'd witness between parents and their offsprings. He wondered if she knew her eyes sparkled when she made her observations.

"The thing is, I had settled it with myself long ago … I wouldn't have kids. And I'm sorry, I know that isn't a unilateral decision, it's not just my choice to make. It's yours as well and you have every right to be included in it, but I just can't allow anyone to be born into this and have duties and obligations to family legacy or whatever, I can't, Wyatt. I just can't." She felt her voice get catchier with every breath.

"Lucy— " he couldn't blame her for thinking that way. His speech was cut off by her before he could proceed.

"And then, I started having these suspicions, as if … by some twisted turn of events it had happened, and I was scared and wishing it wasn't so. But then, when I saw it, when I saw the result I just– I don't know … " she choked. "I was so disappointed and I don't even know why."

Wyatt thought he might have a little idea why. _Damned_ Rittenhouse, always taking its toll on Lucy, coercing her choices, her behaviors … making her hold back and tread uneasily out of fear and preoccupation. He'd give anything to change that, _anything_. He also knew no matter how much distance they'd put between them, they would always have a hold on her, even if covertly.

He brushed her tears away, the feel of his touch against her skin bringing an effortless ease to her spirit.

"What do you really want, Luce?" His voice came soft. "Forget about Rittenhouse for a bit. Before all of this, where did you see your life going? What did you want for yourself? Don't overthink it, don't rationalize it, just say what's in your heart." Wyatt was under the impression she needed to say it aloud.

"I want— " she trailed off in a haze before being able to voice it. She had visions of a family … a _real_ , loving family. Before her, as clear as day, the sight of them being awakened on lazy Sunday mornings by the rhythmic hopping of the kids up and down their bed, a Christmas morning with the little ones excitedly opening the presents up, a regular after-school day and the children running towards their parents' open arms.

Realizing what he had just done, she looked up at him misty-eyed and her enamored heart filled up with warmth.

"There you go," he smiled as if he'd known all along, and had she not been a goner the moment they came back from 1934 and clumsily paced around each other down the wardrobe dock, she would be now.

"How do you do that?"

"It's a specialty," he convened the cockiest tone he could come up with.

She smacked his shoulder, eliciting a chuckle from him.

Despite the realization, she still worried about family ties. "But … what about _them_? I can't put our kids through this. I can't _make_ them go through what I did."

 _Our kids._ Wyatt would be lying if he said that didn't send a shiver down his spine, a good one.

"I still believe we make our own history, Luce," Wyatt asserted. "Your mother said you're supposed to be some sort of Rittenhouse royalty, and ironically you are the living proof that nothing could be further from the truth." She too felt a shiver run down her spine at that mention, the bad type.

"We do our best, that's all we can do. We love them, and we educate them, and we help them make their own destiny," their future laid bare in front of her had her certain she wanted nothing else in the world. "And they're going to have you for a mother. You're going to be so amazing, Lucy. _So amazing_."

 _Was he kidding? He was going to be the best_. They relished in each other's presence, fumbling with their respective bands as it dawned on them … their heart's utmost desires turning to plan. _Kids._

"You up for that?"

"I'm always up for that."

* * *

They imagined he'd heard about it from someone else. His arrival had immediately changed Wyatt's humor, embedding a dark cloud in the atmosphere … a perverted contrast with the sunlit outdoors. He'd gone from overjoyed and lighthearted to gloomy and tense, like he was walking on eggshells.

Lucy instinctively approached the exchange, feeling the weight of his gaze on her, studying, judging … almost scoffing. That alone had Wyatt turn his hands to fists, muscle strain soothed away by the gentle folding of her hands into his and the lazy circles trailed along his knuckles.

His congratulations came off as anything but genuine. Lucy's entrance drew out a disdained glance, a mock. _You need a woman to fight your battles, Wyatt? How did you even become a soldier? Weren't you blonde last time?_

Wyatt looked at Lucy, horrified, hoping his eyes reflected his desperate apologies, the feel of complete and utter waste that washed up his body, the will to go back and prevent her from witnessing that.

His father looked and them and challenged Wyatt, begrudging him, "You always complained about me so much. Let's see how better than me you are at this, boy. I'd like to see that."

Lucy squeezed Wyatt's arm, bringing him closer to her as if the gesture would create a shield between him and those spiteful words. She pressed her sides to his, willing to give him strength, her hand firmly running up and down his back.

Wyatt chuckled and turned to her. "Hey, babe, you want to check on Rufus? I don't want him to overdo it on the grill," he came up with anything. Lucy gave him a concerned look and he just nodded. "It's okay," he said barely above a whisper.

She reluctantly let go of him, giving him space, but unwilling to leave him alone. She placed a kiss on his shoulder and squeezed his hand before going, catching a glimpse of the animosity in the elder's semblance.

She observed the interaction from afar, Wyatt wasn't reacting much but it was obvious the situation wasn't pleasant for him. With every word his head shifted lower, gradually being brought to a downcast standstill. His expression displayed a pain she never wanted him to feel. All she wanted was to reach within and take his heart away, put it in a safe place and keep it from harm. The newcomer wouldn't stop talking and Lucy was sure he wasn't there to tell Wyatt how proud and happy he was for him.

Jiya came in from behind her, a sympathetic smile on her face.

"That has got to be rough," she said.

Lucy shook her head, rage swelling inside of her. "This is supposed to be a happy occasion." _How even had he found out about it? Why had he even come if he didn't have anything nice to say?_

"I'm so sorry, Lucy," Jiya continued. "If you need anything, you know we're always there for both you, don't you?"

"I know," she smiled. The four of them had become inseparable, the only people in the world who truly understood where the other three had been, _time-travel and all_. "Thank you, Jiya."

She would find him later sitting on the edge of the bed. When he noticed her presence, he looked down at his feet, unwilling to make eye contact with her.

"Oh," he started fruitlessly, "I just came here to make sure everything was all right with the," he fumbled through the drawers looking for nothing in particular.

"You don't have to pretend with me, you know?" Her tone was kind and caring.

He looked up at her, emotion pooling from his eyes. He chuckled and Lucy felt weak and angry that he was going through this. Wyatt Logan was the one person in the world who did not deserve have this happen to him. "I'm sorry," his voice cracked.

She closed the distance between them, nestling on his lap with her lower limbs huddled between his legs. Taking his face in her hands, she touched their foreheads and that way they stayed evermore in comfortable silence. Her touch was akin to a charm, washing away the grief and swelling his now carefree heart with serenity.

"Hey," her voice brought him back from his reverie, blue eyes meeting brown. "I love you," she accounted, the smile on his lips finally making its way to his eyes. " … _We_ love you." She drove his hand towards the petite swell in her stomach.

"And I love you both," he replied. _Beyond words._ Lucy stayed with him until he was ready to come back out.

That night, Wyatt was the first to fall asleep. The sounds of his wife's whispers sending him to a relaxed, dreamless slumber.

* * *

That one time he was greeted by a distressed Lucy when he got home was a singularly scary step along the journey.

"Something doesn't feel right," she heaved amid tears, hands flying to the low of her stomach. He acted quickly despite feeling the ground plummet from beneath his feet. Taking her hand in his, he guided her out the door trying his best to soothe her but making sure not to give rise to empty promises. They would rush to the hospital with no idea that day would become a constant in their life. August 11th, 2020.

It was too soon … just too soon. Her age had played a part in making that so, and Wyatt was sure her concerns had returned to bother her. The unplanned turn of events infused the day with worry, running around, and doubts. It would end with Lucy waking up to Wyatt telling her everything would be okay. It would take some work … and time, but they had all of that to give. Everything would be all right. Their little miracle would be okay.

* * *

Being first time parents was not easy. They were both exhausted from the sleepless nights, and this one wouldn't be any different. The screeches came at three in the morning, no taking into account how they both felt as if they had just managed to close their eyes.

Lucy hummed, burying her face in the crook of Wyatt's neck and tightening her grasp around his chest.

"I've got this," came his voice from the darkness, his back detaching from her torso. He was on his way to the nursery before she could even lift her heavy lids.

Wyatt entered the room silently, projections from the whimsical night light swirling about the dark walls.

"Hey, peanut," he said softly, picking the crying baby up and swaddling her in his arms. "Shhhh," he rocked her rhythmically, kissing her rosy cheeks in the process. "Come on, kid, am I really that bad? Momma couldn't make it, she really needs some rest," he kept soothing her. "We need to take care of her, you know?"

The baby's honey eyes drifted to his and he saw the recognition there, her little mouth curling up in a smile that sent butterflies down his stomach. His heart ached with the love he felt for her.

He concluded she needed a change … wrapping up the process after a few stumbles he was now rocking the baby against his chest when a chuckle caught his ear.

"How long have you been there?" It shouldn't come as a surprise to him the sight of Lucy in the doorway.

"Oh, just a few minutes."

"You aren't supposed to be up."

"And miss this?" She motioned her fingers between the very objects of her affection.

Wyatt grinned, carefully placing the baby down the crib … Lucy was now standing by his side, her chin brushing his shoulder as they watched their little one in amazement.

"We did good, didn't we?"

"That we did."

* * *

The smell of the ocean breeze engulfed her lungs as she felt the splash from the coming waves. The faint giggle brought her back from her memory-filled daydream, recollections of the journey that had brought them to that very moment.

"Daddy!" the wails came in form of a protest to Wyatt's tickling fingertips. Lucy observed the exchange in awe, her heart fluttering in sheer happiness.

Wyatt settled the little girl down the warm ground, her chestnut brown hair blowing in unison with the wind. She picked up her toys, flailing sand about.

Just yesterday he had arrived home from deployment. The circumstances had been so exceptional when they met – traveling through time, being on-call for Mason Industries … waiting to be summoned at any time, no formal job type thing – Lucy almost didn't consider what it would mean for her … falling in love with a soldier and pursuing that relationship.

The house was filled with heavy hearts the morning he left. Livy clung to her sides as they watched him go, the matriarch trying her best to put thoughts of _what ifs_ at bay. It was not time to dwell in sorrows, for that time had come to a halt and he was right there. _He was right there_. Lucy's heart felt both the sting of grief as it did the press of healing fingers.

The night before had been different, however. He'd taken his girls in his arms once he reached the foyer, _his girls_ … no matter how long they'd been together, those words still gave him chills. They cherished each other, forgetting about everything in the most selfish way … they were the whole world that day. Later on, after putting Olivia to bed, they'd find themselves in a clump of sheets and limbs. Wyatt's arm draped over Lucy's messy hair, leg over her hip, they dangled their lips together … neither willing to break their connection, soft murmurs proclaiming their devotion.

Wyatt walked towards her now … his form sturdy and gorgeous as ever, Lucy thought. He sat by her and brought her body with his upon lying atop the towel. They breathed in the scent of the sea, eyes partially shut, fingers intertwined.

"Daa-a-ddy-yyy," the little howl came in a sing-song manner. "Come back. You tricked me!"

They raised their eyebrows, trying hard not to laugh but failing miserably.

"I have tough competition, huh?" Lucy joked.

Wyatt placed a kiss on her temple, "You think," his words were but a whisper. Returning to a standing position, he called out after their little girl, "I'm coming little ma'am."

* * *

This came to me as I was working on something else and I just had to put it down. I'm sorry it's so random, I just really needed some shameless fluff, since we probably won't be getting anything like this any time soon if the show is renewed (hopefully yes).

Proofreading this made me realize how much I don't like it, but I didn't spend days writing to just toss the final product. Oh well. Not my finest work, hopefully you can enjoy it a little bit.


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